Child's Play
by Lady Shikyo
Summary: An accident. That's all it was. But there seem to be a lot of 'accidents' going on lately. Like the people falling down stairs. Being struck by lightning. Being hit by cars. Like the creepy dolls that keep showing up on his doorstep and don't wanna leave
1. Prologue: Accident

Hi. . .this is **Evil And Loving It**. . .I'm co-writing with **Lady Shikyo** on this, and she's sleeping at the moment so I'm the one posting this~

We are aware that this is an extraordinarily short chapter. That's why it's called a prologue.

The following warnings should be heeded:

Beware of death, suicide, thoughts of suicide, torture, severe alcohol consumption, disturbing themes, freaky little dolls (which may or may not do things), yaoi and. . .I'm pretty sure that's it. If there's more I'll add to the list.

But don't let that deter you! I'm sure humor will find its way in here. It always does with Shikyo. . .

Everclear - Has a very high alcohol content, and no taste or scent, which often leads to overdoses and death.

Enjoy.

The man sighed as he drove down the dark, empty streets, the full moon's light pouring through the leaves of the thin forestry lining the road in scattered bursts. Silent was his car, which drove smoothly and silently, and no music filled it's interior. He enjoyed silence, and felt that he didn't get enough of it.

He really needed to stop staying late at the inn. He was exhausting himself working on things his staff didn't get to or finish, and it wasn't like it was mandatory that he finish their jobs. He just hated leaving things without a sense of closure. He ran the inn better than anyone before him had, even his only superior said so. Though his superior didn't really have much to do with anything besides owning the building. . .

The man was the perfect manager. He was perfect in every way: he was intelligent, he was good with people, he was a natural leader, he was confident, he rarely drank or did any other kind of vice, and he liked his job. Being attractive didn't hurt any.

His single vice, really, was that he smoked. Even now, one of the death sticks was between his lips filling his lungs with nicotine and his car with it's scent. He'd learned early on that the nicotine did wonders for any stress he had. Early enough that through his late middle school and entire high school life he had to make sure he never smoked too much and always had mints/gum handy for fear of his parents discovering his guilty pleasure. He had stuck to those habits so determinedly that he still did that. He even had an air freshener in his car, which dulled the scent a bit, though it was still there.

Due to his love of all things clean and that he never smoked in public, most people in his town weren't consciously aware or didn't notice that the scent of smoke that tended to linger around the man was actually from him. It just didn't occur to them that he could have an addiction. What could he say; the mind was a powerful thing.

And so the semi-perfect man drove through the dark, empty streets of the small town in which he resided. A small town called Everclear. Which was ridiculous, really. The fact that a town that didn't even have an independent bar was named after one of the most potentially deadly alcohols--which you couldn't get in many of the US states anyway--was an irony in the truest sense. The founders of this place had to have been messed up in the head, which frankly wouldn't surprise the man considering its residents.

But he didn't feel like getting into that. He was almost home to his calm, quiet house, which resided on the outskirts of the town, and he was looking forward to collapsing into bed. Just the thought of a soft mattress and sheets beneath him and a warm thick blanket to keep the cold fall temperatures away wa--

Something suddenly jumped in front of the car, effectively scaring the shit out of the man and invoking the slamming of his foot on the break, which also invoked the break's screech that shattered through the night air. Despite this quick action the object was slammed into by the vehicle and thrown over the hood and into the windshield, which luckily and amazingly did not break or crack.

The man didn't really see anything for a moment, just trying to gather his wits at the sudden invasion in his formerly-calm night. Finally he could actually look at whatever it was he had impacted with. His eyes met unfocused dead ones.

The man's mind went completely blank at the sight of the dead child resting against his windshield. Not even the urge to scream that had threatened him at first lingered now.

Only one word could break through Yagami Raito's mind and out his mouth, from which his burning cigarette promptly fell.

"Fuck"


	2. Chapter 1: Everything But Perfect

Hello again. . .this is Evil And Loving It, since Shikyo has obtained sickness. . .again. . .yes, she is quite ill. . .

But anyway, on to the part you care about. I've decided to do away with the warnings, as they're basically just spoilers. . .heheheh. . .

This chapter isn't so much horror as it is set up, so we hope you remain interested enough to continue watching this. . .after all we get oh so happy when we get alerts. . .even more so when we get reviews. . .

Note: We do not support smoking in any way.

You have issues with Light being called Raito? Deal with it. Raito's prettier.

No, vampires do not plan on appearing in this fic.

Chapter 1

------no------vampires------available------

Yagami Raito, the man as perfect as a man could be, sat at his kitchen table drinking his fifth cup of coffee for that morning.

He was perfect in nearly every way: he was intelligent, he was good with people, he was a natural leader, he was confident, he rarely drank or did any other kind of vice, and he liked his job. Being attractive didn't hurt any. He had only two vices. He smoked (a lot).

And there was a body buried in his basement.

Ever since that night three days ago he'd been in a permanent state of agitation. He knew it was wrong to have done that. He knew it was so _fucking_ wrong. Maybe that's why there was a part of him that refused to accept it had all happened. Part of him that truly didn't believe that there was a corpse in his basement. The part of him that had blacked out and woken up covered in dirt with a shovel in hand. Then there was that part of him that. . .

The part of him that _didn't care_.

The brunette abandoned the coffee to finally give into his nicotine urge. Was everyone like that? Did everyone have that little voice in their head that didn't care what happened to anyone else as long as its own being was safe? As long as its lifestyle was preserved?

A voice that told him, that girl wasn't from this town. No one would miss her, no one would know she was gone. What people didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Wouldn't hurt Raito.

The doorbell rang and the brunette nearly jumped out of his skin. Instantly every bad situation ran through his mind: someone had seen him. Someone knew. They knew. They would send him to jail. No, they'd hang him themselves. Bury him alive. Make him pay for his sins.

The bell rang again and Raito snapped out of his panicked state. He put out the cigarette and calmly stood and stepped to the door, swinging it open to see who was there.

His eyes landed on a rather unusual sight. It was a man--just one--who's skin was amazingly pale, clashing with his dark black hair that was kept in a. . .well, it wasn't really kept at all. It stuck out every which way in a complete thwart of order, framing his face and shoulders. And his eyes were unusual as well. The eye itself was so dark, it was hard to differentiate the border between the pupil and the iris. Below his eyes were dark circles, that had to have been caused over years. Odd as the man was, his clothes weren't too odd. Not really.

Just a loose, long-sleeved white shirt and baggy jeans. A little plain, but not weird. The lack of shoes, however, _was_ a little weird.

Raito blinked, realizing he was staring. He couldn't help it. It'd been forever since he'd seen a stranger on his front porch; this was one of those towns where everyone knew everyone "Can I help you?"

"Probably not" the man grinned slightly, showing perfect white teeth and kind of. . .sharp. . .canines "Just came over to say hi"

"Uh. . .alright. Hello"

The man's grin softened into a smile "Hello"

There was an awkward silence (at least on Raito's part) for a moment, and then the brunette decided to inquire "Er, could I ask _why_ you wanted to say hello?"

The man cocked his head "Didn't I say? I'm moving in next door. My family and I are gonna be your neighbors"

Raito frowned. There weren't any houses open on this street. There weren't many houses on this street period. Except. . . "You're. . .you're moving into _that_ house?" the brunette pointed at the building straight ahead and facing his own house.

The pale man grinned again "Yup" he half-turned, looking at the four-story building that, indeed, had a moving van in front of it "You sound surprised. May _I_ ask to why?"

"Well, it's just that that place is kind of. . .falling apart"

And it was true. The huge house's wood and brick was faded, even falling apart in certain spots. The windows on each floor had half-sets of shutters, a couple with one shutter hanging off it's hinges while the other would stick dedicatedly to the wall. The yard was scattered with roof tiles and the occasional brick from the partially collapsed chimney, and the porch was at a slight slant. Frankly, it looked uninhabitable.

The man shrugged "What can I say, it was cheap" he chuckled "And you know how a woman can be with a sale"

Raito gave a polite smile "Yes, but with a house?"

The man laughed "I know! But she's a determined one. All it needs is a little fixing up. . .at least, that's what she says"

"Isn't it a bit dangerous to be living there before you do any work on it? Someone could get hurt. . ." Or killed.

The stranger half-shrugged "It won't be my fault when she falls down the stairs and breaks her neck" Right then there was a long series of crashing noises that ran down the height of the house "See? What'd I tell ya"

Raito stared at the pale man, surprised "You would joke about your wife like that?"

"Oh, she's not my wife. Not yet" he gave a small smile.

One of the top story's shudders flew open and off their hinges to the ground below, and a blonde woman leaned out of the remaining cavity and waved at the two. She shouted down to them, a foreign accent messing with her words "Rue~! Rotted corpse hanging from attic! Normal?"

The man beamed at her "Sure! Hun, what was that crashing?"

"I fall up stairs! But I be unhurt" she disappeared back into the house's blackness with a grin just as suddenly as when she had appeared.

"Huh" the man looked back to Raito "Well, as long as she isn't hurt, right?"

"Er. . .yeah" it wasn't every day that Raito was speechless, but this apparently wasn't every day.

"So I hear that our new house used to be the mayor's. . ."

"Yes" the brunette happily latched onto a subject he knew about and understood "That was always the house the town's mayor would live in, at least until the fire. Now his house closer to the center of town. . .wait, what did she say about a corpse?"

"Ah, don't worry about that. But hey," he held out his hand to the brunette and gave a crooked grin "I guess at some point I should tell you my name. I'm Hideki Rue"

Raito took the hand without a thought "I'm Yagami Raito" he blinked "You're Japanese?"

A strange look flashed through Raito's new neighbor's eyes "Only half, technically. You are Japanese as well, so it would seem. Though you look the part more than I, don't you?"

"Yes, I suppose. . ." the brunette released the other's hand "I'm afraid I have to end this: I need to leave for work. It was nice meeting you, Hideki-san"

The pale man grinned, moving back a step and half-turning "Please, call me Rue. And it was nice to meet you as well, Raito-san" he waved and stepped off the porch, moving across the yard. But before he crossed all the way, he paused and looked back at Raito over his shoulder "Hey, be careful on your way to work. We almost hit a deer on the way here. Little buggers just leap right out of nowhere, don't they?" he smiled, returning to his path to his own home "Have a good day~"

Raito watched Rue leave, suddenly feeling cold all over. It was somewhat how he thought it would feel like to be dead.

------to------be------dead------

Raito flipped through a newspaper, the noise of the crowded diner around him easily ignored by years of practice. The noon-time sun shone down on his table gently, occasionally shadowed out by a cloud passing. It was the perfect amount of light for the paper's tiny print not to kill the brunette's eyes, as well as not bounce off his thin glasses, making reflections dance in the corners of the lens.

"Thanks for holding the table Raito!" Matsuda popped up spontaneously in the chair across from the brunette. Raito would have been startled, but by now he had gotten used to the happy man.

"I've done it for ages, so why would I stop now?"

Matsuda beamed happily "Yeah, I know, but I'm still grateful!" he set a grapefruit in front of the brunette, who murmured a thank you, then seated himself with a cup of coffee in hand "Y'know, I can't believe you like that grapefruit stuff. It tastes so gross"

"Everything here tastes 'gross'"

"But you still come here. . ."

"Is there another restraunt-resembling building within a 50 mile radius of my house that I don't know about?"

"Ah. I see what you mean" the older man looked into space, sipping at his coffee thoughtfully. Instantly he pulled a face, setting the cup down "Ugh. . .I used to think you couldn't totally kill coffee"

"Hm" Raito looked back down at his paper "I used to think a lot of things before I discovered Hal's Diner" the young man reached to turn the page, pausing when he noticed his hand was shaking slightly. He subtly drew back the hand, knowing Matsuda wouldn't have noticed but deciding to distract the man just in case "So how's the book market?"

At the mention of his work and pride, the other perked up even more, which was rather amazing "It's really good! The people here have taken much more interest in reading these last couple years. Though now that I think about it, it's kinda funny: it's mostly men who show up at the book store. . ." Raito could figure out that one. It was probably cause he'd been showing up most of the guys here since he moved in, and had taken the interest of nearly all the females. Country girls apparently found literacy attractive.

"So have you met the new family yet?"

Raito blinked, frowning slightly "New. . .Oh, yeah, I've met one of them. They're moving into the house across from mine"

Matsuda leaned forward, elbows on grey-coloured table and head propped on hands "Cool. Which one did you meet? Ryuuzaki?"

"No, I met Rue"

"Oh, that's Ryuuzaki's brother" Matsuda grinned "Nice guy, isn't he?"

"Yes. Very. . .friendly"

"He's a lot different from Ryuuzaki, even though they look so similar"

"How did you meet them? Aren't they moving in just now?"

"Ryuuzaki came to the bookstore looking for a job" he sipped at his coffee again, seemingly gotten over its taste "I'm glad to get the help really" The man blushed a little, looking embarrassed "Everything's kinda messy, since I have no extra help there"

Matsuda continued to jabber on about the shop and the happenings of the town and. . .well, after that Raito had really stopped listening. He once again found himself starting to wonder how he had ended up sharing a table with the chipper squirrel across from himself every weekday at noontime. It was. . .strange, the soothing effect Matsuda had on the brunette. The man was somehow the single normal thing Raito could locate in the whole town. At least, that was what Raito told himself; in reality it was because the man held such a pure nature, especially in comparison to Raito's own true nature.

Before either Matsuda or Raito had moved to the U.S. and Everclear, they had lived in Japan. Though Matsuda was certainly not as aged as the brunette's father, he had still worked with the man as his policeman/detective partner in their native country. Somehow, Raito had at one point grown used to Matsuda's presence in his life. When the cheerful and kind man had announced that he intended to quit his job and move to the states to take on running his recently deceased grandfather's bookstore, the brunette hadn't thought much of it, just dismissing it as a change typical to life.

Raito soon after discovered he wasn't very fond of life's changes.

Matsuda's leaving was like removing a barrier that surrounded Raito's life, a barrier that kept all the sad, bad things out and the good things in. A month after the happy man left, Raito's mother died. Her heart just. . .gave out. Stopped. It was a shock to Raito's father, and Soichiro became absorbed in his work, growing apart from friends and family. Sayu grew distant as well, except for with Raito. She seemed to stick to her brother as determindly as the shutters stuck to the house across from Raito's, going to him with stories about her day, or problems.

Matsuda didn't go to Raito's mother's funeral. He wanted to--a lot--but he couldn't afford a trip back to Japan so soon. He sent a letter to comfort, and a few months later he was able to visit and go to Sachiko's grave.

Raito had gone with Matsuda to the cemetery (God knows that after months of being gone Matsuda had completely forgotten where everything in Japan was). Soichiro hadn't gone, and Sayu had given an excuse not to go. Raito didn't push Sayu to go; he felt that Soichiro should have gone, but he was Raito's father, so Raito had to respect him and his wishes.

Matsuda and Raito visited his mother's grave, left her flowers, and just watched the cemetery for a while, talking about random things. Go figure that Matsuda could manage to make a place of death and mourning into a place of reflection and good memories. Raito had truly laughed for the first time since his mother's death (though if that laughter was with or at Matsuda remains to be seen).

Matsuda stayed at the Yagami's for a week. It made Sayu happy, but Raito didn't know about his father. He didn't know anything about his father anymore.

During the week of Matsuda's visit, things had started to feel. . .normal. . .again. Everything seemed less sad, and memories of the past less haunting and foreboding. But at the end of that week, Raito felt something completely foreign to him, something strange. Something he barely recognized.

Fear.

He was afraid, afraid that everything would return to what it had been once the untainted soul that was Matsuda left their house. Afraid that things would turn dark again, and that things would get worse. He didn't want that, there was nothing he wanted less than that. So, on Matsuda's final day in Japan, Raito asked him to let Raito go with him. Raito had expected--even with Matsuda--some argument. He expected to have to convince the elder to let him come, to leave his home country with him. After all, Raito had been barely twenty years of age. He'd been young, and not as experienced in life (though, granted, more intelligent than many).

But Matsuda had just smiled. Smiled, and said he'd take Raito to the US.

"Hello? Raito? Earth to Raitooo~"

The brunette was jolted from his thoughts, looking up to see Matsuda staring at him "What is it Matsuda?"

"Uh, I've been trying to get your attention for a couple minutes. Are you okay? You know, you've been kind of distant for the last couple of days. . . Did something happen?"

Raito's right hand twitched slightly. He smiled "No, nothing's happened"

"You're not overworking yourself, are you? I know that you like to be efficient, but you shouldn't push yourself"

"No Matsuda, I am not overworking myself" The younger man stood, folding his paper neatly over its original creases and removing his glasses "You shouldn't worry about me"

Matsuda smiled "But I do. You're heading back to work already? You've barely eaten anything. . ."

Raito shrugged, pushing his chair in "I'll just get coffee or something from the Inn's kitchen"

The other sighed longingly, leaning back in his seat "Lucky~! You have a whole kitchen you can sneak food from. . .I really don't know why you bother to come here"

"I do not 'sneak' food, and I come here because I won't eat all the food meant for the Inn's customers" the brunette shook his head, turning to head for the exit "See you, Matsuda"

Matsuda's farewell blended in with the noise of the diner as Raito stepped to the door, opening it and meeting the cool outside air, the quiet sound that was the tinkle of a bell somehow cutting through everything else.

------through------everything------else------

The silence inside the moving car was broken only by the small outside sounds that managed to break through the windows, giving a calming and comfortable feel to Raito's smooth car ride to work. A few people followed the sidewalks framing the road, and as he passed Raito noticed the small collection of vehicles and people gathering at the church.

Well, it really wasn't a church. It was just the building that any religious organizations gathered at. But that's not the point.

The point was why people were going to that specific building in the middle of a work day -- _Oh. It's Thursday isn't it?_ The thought traveled through the young man's mind as the white and gray building shrank out of view when he turned a corner. The third Thursday of every month was confession day. Technically a person could confess on any day, but the third Thursday was special because that was the day that a certain young, albino teen went to the church.

Christian services in this town were good and interesting (or so Raito had heard), but despite how well he could give a sermon, the priest could be rather. . .intimidating. 'Terrifying' was a better word. The blonde could give a look that'd make a grown man cry.

Because of his lack of social skills, the people of Everclear quickly learned that it was _not _wise to confess to their only priest, for fear of him shooting them for their sins. Therefore, the priest's younger brother took pity on the people and took up a little of the cloth, and came to the church once a month so any dark burdens could be lifted.

Frankly, Raito found the whole religious practice pointless. He didn't know if he'd say he was an atheist, but the thought of going to another human to 'confess' or beg forgiveness from some greater power. . .it was, well. . .just asking for trouble, right? If someone saw you going in, they'd know you did something wrong, right? And just because they're trained in the religion, did that really mean you could trust them not to tell anyone else?

_Confessions, huh. . ._

------. . .------confessions------. . .------

Oiled hinges bent silently as the door they held in place swung open, providing entrance for the Japanese brunette with cinnamon-stained eyes.

The young man gracefully stepped across the casual-feeling lobby to the tall dark oak desk. Behind said desk was a smiling black-haired man, maybe a couple years junior to Raito. There was nothing particularly interesting about him; his hair was not an exceptionally pure black, nor curly or straight. A few freckles danced across his cheeks, underlining plain brown eyes. He wasn't attractively skinny or nicely muscled. If he was any kind of 'perfect', he was the perfect middle-ground, that person you don't particularly notice, but not that person you ignore or avoid once you do.

None the less, he made up for this by being a people-person to the point of obscenity. He lived to make others happy, which added a perfection to his pathetic little list: he was great for greeting and dealing with customers. He was as close to another Raito as Raito could get, minus the power-hungry justice-craving intelligence and good-looks. And really, what more could he ask for?

Raito checked in with the middle-ground-man, making sure no _tragedy_ had struck whilst his amazing managing skills were absent (though of course he stated that in an appropriate way). After this, he calmly fled for the kitchens in search of non-sugary, edible objects. Namely, coffee.

The swinging door glided open and the brunette was mauled by delicious scents of lunch, and the clanging of pots, pans and cutlery. He made a bee-line to the beautiful white machine from which his liquid-energy was born, only to crushed by disappointment at the sight of an empty pot. The young man sighed and proceeded to radiate emo vibes.

And then a miracle happened.

Right before his eyes , a cup levitated down into his line of vision. A cup filled with a gorgeous dark colour.

The brunette's hands shot up to snatch the dish from whatever godly apparition had created it, gratefully swallowing an impressive gulp of it. He sighed in contentment as the most delicious coffee on Earth made its way down his throat.

"Eager much?"

The smooth, bored, amused tone slashed through Raito's uncharacteristic appreciation of life and its pleasures, and drew his attention to the man standing beside him. Raito grinned at the red-headed chef "For your coffee? Always"

The coffee-bearing man brushed off the compliment, turning to lean against the counter and watch his slaves instead "Have a nice lunch break?"

Raito mimicked the chef's position, cradling the warm cup in his hands "As nice as it ever is. And you?"

The red-head snorted "You know I don't get breaks. It's because _of_ you that I don't get breaks"

A chuckle was the only reply.

Eyes dimmed by tinted goggles watched over the worker bees of the ivory-hive that was his kitchen "So's Matsuda doing well?"

Raito quirked an eyebrow as he sipped his drink, catching on to the tell-tale signs of an ulterior motive. Though really, his chef didn't have many signs. . . "It's not like you to ask about him"

A shrug "It's good to talk about something new every once and a while"

"Hn. If you believed in good things you wouldn't smoke a pack a day. I sincerely can't understand how you can walk without hacking up a lung"

The red-head gave a wry grin, eyes rolling to meet his boss's "I'm just amazing like that"

Another chuckle rumbled from Raito's throat "That you are, Matt, that you are" He pushed off the counter, heading for the door so he could begin the second half of his day's work.

Matt's smooth voice followed the brunette "You never answered my question"

Raito glanced over his shoulder at his friend "Matsuda is fine. Everything's like it's always been"

------it's------always------been------

Ah, I musn't forget to include Shikyo's little developing trademark. . .the Mission For Readers.

The mission is. . .

What is your favourite horror thing? (zombies, vampires, Frankenstein, etc. . . )


End file.
